


In which both of them were dorky losers.

by Demon_Cookie101



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Days 1-7, Erisol week, M/M, tags to be added per chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-30 00:02:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8511031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demon_Cookie101/pseuds/Demon_Cookie101
Summary: Hooray Erisol week, because it's not like I write any other ship ever. I probably won't end up uploading all of the chapters on time... whoops.





	1. Day 1 - Quadrant Hell

**Author's Note:**

> #Quadrant Hell  
> Has a bit of post-erisolsprite feelings, but isn't really a main focus. Quadrant hell is.

“We’re going to have to talk about this eventually.”

Your voice comes out softer than you mean for it to.

Sollux doesn’t look up from his husktop, but you can see his fingers still over the keys before he resumes typing. You’re not sure what he’s typing, because you’re sitting with your knees to your chest on the opposite side of his room.

You’re… still sort of adapting to this new life scenario, and you’re really, really confused over the events that have transpired to end up with you sitting almost _comfortably_ in his room or him sitting in yours while both of you just sit, normally in utter silence, while either avoiding looking at each other or glaring hard enough that your eyes start to hurt.

You don’t know how or why or when it all came to be this way.

But what you do know, is that Sollux doesn’t want to talk about it. You’ve brought it up twice now, today, and the last time you both ended up in the same room alone. He didn’t answer you then, and he looks intent on not answering you now. You could just get up and leave. You could just stand and leave all of the doors you pass through wide open so that he has to get off his stupid flat ass and close them, but you want answers.

You want answers as to why you feeling near enough everything for him, but at the same time nothing at all. He shouldn’t mean anything to you, and some days he doesn’t. There are some days where you are perfectly happy to ignore him and his messages and pretend that he has never existed in your life, like he never pissed you off during the game.

And then there are these stupid contradictory days, like today for fuckin’ example, where you feel too much and you don’t want that.

He’s literally the worst piece of shit on this new planet, right after you, and it’s so fucking _irritating_. You want to smash his head against a wall just to see him emote some. You want to mess around with his stuff, his codes, which you can do because you have the memories (from him. His memories) that will let you accomplish that.

You hate him more than you have ever hated Vriska, but you can’t decide whether it’s because he knows far too much about you now, or if there’s another reason. He could be so much better than he is, stronger or wiser or anything, but he continues to poodle along and focus on menial tasks that are in no way furthering his abilities.

And you, someone who has always, _always_ , tried to ensure that you were the best around. It fuckin’ pisses you off so much that you want to do it for him, simply because he refuses to.

Those days you think you could hate him, and only hate him, but then more memories surface, pushing aside your own lingering thoughts and fears to remind you of what he suffered and how, really, there isn’t that much difference between you both.

Those are the days when you feel so _pale_ for him that you almost can’t breathe. You don’t want to feel pale for him, and that makes you hate him even more, but you do. His migraines and stupidly logical and indepth knowledge of death and his acceptance with his own eventual one leave you bouncing from one wall labelled black to the other labelled pink and back again so quickly that you feel overwhelmed.

You hate him. And you pity him. And you want answers.

“Sollux.” You pull yourself to stand, by habit steadying yourself against the nearest surface before making your way over to him. You pull him back his chair away from husktop and to the other side of the room. You stand in his way of it, not too far that he can just as easily ignore you, but not close enough that he can touch you. “I want answers Sollux. I can’t keep doin’ this.”

His voice is even, bored like he doesn’t care, but he’s looking you in the eye. “Doing what. Nobody is getting you to do anything, Eridan.”

“This!” You can’t help but fling your hands up, resisting the urge to start to pace. “We sit in each other’s hives quietly and we seek each other out when it gets too much but seconds later either of us could be snappin’ at the other’s throat! What are we, Sollux? I can’t keep doin’ this, I can’t… I can’t do two. I can barely do one.” You hate admitting that you can’t do things. It makes you feel sick, a failure.

Which you are, but considering that the only person (troll or human) who really pays any sort of attention to you these days is currently sitting in front of you with a blank expression on his face, you think that maybe it’s okay for you to be one, just for a little while.

“Why can’t we be both? No one cares about quadrants anymore. There isn’t any reason for us to label it at all. You just want to put a label on it so that you can file it away in a nice neat little drawer that holds the name of anyone who currently gives half a shit about you.” Your fists clench, and you hate that you’re so easy to anger.

But he’s right.

“So what? I just want to know. It’s so tirin’, havin’ you piss me off to the point where I just want to throttle you, only for you to do somethin’ in the next second that makes me feel this stupid…” You run your fingers agitatedly through your hair, wishing that he would stop looking at you so intensely. You don’t want to say pity, because even though you do (at times), you feel like things will go wrong if you admit that.

Sollux sighs and stands, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “We’re a clusterfuck of everything, okay ED, and I think you’re the only one who’s getting worked up about it.”

He pats you on the head like some belligerent _hound_ as he drags his chair back over to his husktop. Your indigent noise is most definitely warranted, fins flicking and flaring as you turn to snap at him.

He pats you on the cheek next, and you know that you’ve always been a bit of a touch-starved piece of shit, but honestly, it’s a bit pathetic that you can start to calm down from your own worked up anger just with a pat or two.

Sollux makes himself comfortable again, looking like he was, with all intents and purposes, going to go right back to ignoring you.

You huff at him, fins folding back against your head instead.

You almost turn to stalk out of his hive (you’re totally going to leave the doors wide open after this), when he grins and snickers quietly. He glances back at you, smirking a little. “Try and look at it this way; imagine how many of them we can piss off, solely because we’re a bunch of quadrant confused fucks? Maybe try and focus on that instead of workin’ yourself into a ball of frothing confusion.”

His stupid snickering follows you as you flip him off and stalk out of his hive (doors wide fucking open, hah), but you do have to admit. It sounds like it would make for an interesting pastime; messing around with everyone’s perception of what you both are doing.


	2. Day 2 - No Sgrub

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #No Sgrub.  
>  In which Eridan is an officer-in-training in the fleet of Her Imperious Condescension, and Sollux is the right hand troll in all of Karkat's rebellion plots.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if I'm happy with how this one turned out. It doesn't seem to read very well to me, but oh well. I like the idea of it well enough.  
> Both of them are roughly 10 sweeps.

The ship is smaller than you anticipated.

It means it’s easier to take over, especially by yourself, but considering the intel you have on it, you’re surprised it’s this small. It looks like it’s only going to be able to hold one troll comfortably for the flight from the space station down to the planet you’re hiding out on.

You’re here for a reason. One you’re not really sure on, but Karkat had insisted that the information he had received means that you have to go on this little side mission.

This planet is some little backwater thing that’s under Her control, but not monitored. The inhabitants are non-hostile, but timid and they hide more than they linger in the moonlight. There’s a landing port and a refuelling station. Karkat dropped you off before heading on to hide behind an asteroid belt, his ship far too big to hide easily on this little slip of a planet.

You glance down at the digital pad beside you. You’re hidden, sheltered from sight in the tree line of a large meadow like thing. The grass is this silly looking blue, but it’s comfortable enough to sit on. The list doesn’t give you a name, but it gives you a blood, horns, and the details of the ship you have to take control of and bring here.

Which you’re already in the process of doing. You’re pretty sure that you’ve rendered the troll that’s inside the ship unconscious by fucking with the oxygen levels, but considering it’s a violet and apparently a soon-to-be captain of Her imperial fleet, despite his age, you’re not too fussed.

As the ship comes in to view, descending slowly to land via your careful instructions, you wonder again why Karkat sent you here to take control of this one ship. There’s a few cerulean’s, a couple of blues, in the ranks of your friend’s growing rebellion, but nothing higher. There’s no purple, and definitely nothing violet. Why does he want you to deal with this ship, and this troll?

The ship doesn’t look like it’s going to have anything interesting in it, nothing you can use at all. So that means you’re here for the troll.

Or more specifically, what the troll knows.

This isn’t your area of expertise. Your area of expertise is fucking with electronics and getting information from the various helmsman’s tied to all of Her ships. You don’t deal with other trolls. Especially ones like this. As far as you know, the troll in this ship is going to literally kill you as soon as he regains consciousness.

Karkat gave you a list of what he was looking for, and it is pretty much information, but he didn’t have time to tell you how to get it.

You’re jarred out of your thoughts by the ship landing, a rumbled thud disrupting the quiet. You keep to the trees, remotely opening the door on the side of the vessel. When nothing moves at all you approach, carefully picking your way over the grass and inching your way into the ship. It’s dark inside, the various instruments and controls lit up and glowing faintly. You head there first, looking to see if the information you’re looking for is there.

You definitely don’t expect to feel the sharp point of a blade against your throat this quickly. The troll should be unconscious!

You panic and spark, shoving everything away from you and heading straight for the door. Fuck this. Fuck. This. You’ll come back later or send someone else you are not equipped to handle this rubbish.

You don’t even get to the door.

It is a violet, very obnoxiously violet (only highbloods would bother with showing off that much of their blood colour holy crap), but he’s not as old as you expected.

He looks like he’s your age, his face sharp and pointed and young behind his glasses, despite the bared teeth and narrowed gaze. You stumble to a stop before you crash into him, breathing a little harder than probably necessary in your panic.

He’s holding a knife of some kind in one hand, and a gun in the other. He looks like he knows how to use both very, very easily.

“Who are you.” This is all going wrong. He’s supposed to be unconscious, you’re supposed to just find the information. His voice wavers a little over the ‘w’, and you wonder how old he is.

“I-I wath told to come here. I’m getting information. Thith ship ith thuppothed to have it.” You hate your lisp, but sometimes it just lifts it’s stupid fucking head when you’re not paying enough attention over controlling it. You also hope that you can act intimidated enough so that you don’t get killed before you get any information.

You realise, with a start, that he’s shaking. It’s minute, but he’s trembling, his hands and even his fins seem to be doing the same.

He looks you over, and you really wish that you could just blast a hole through him and get the hell out of here, but if he has the information you need, then you can’t do that. You either have to subdue him, or hope he’s like one of those stupid villains that tells his whole plan and vital information while he’s gloating over besting you.

“I have information. A friend of mine.” He hesitates, like he’s not used to the word. The gun doesn’t lower from pointing at your face. “He said that I had to go to this system, and that he’ll receive the information. You’re not him.”  
“What maketh you think that?”  
“You’re the wrong kind of fucked up troll.”

You blink at him, lowering your hands a little. “How… I thcan every one of hith methageth to enthure that nothing encrypted ith getting through. Who are you.”

He lowers the gun just a little, both hands falling to his side. He doesn’t seem keen to answer, and he looks really uncomfortable to be where he is.   
“Better quethtion. Why the fuck ith a _violet_ willingly giving information like thith?”  
“He said he could get my moirail out safely, if I helped him. She’s the heiress. I can’t protect her out here, and Vantas said that he can get her off Alternia. I know who he is.”  
“How do you know he’th not going to back-thtab you?”  
“I have his ship’s coordinates. He hurts her, I kill all of you. I have a friend in your ranks. She’s entitled to… looking at all the available options.”

He’s barely old enough to be so far up in the fleet as it is, if he’s the same age as you. Fuck, you can’t even handle being ten sweeps, even though it’s supposed to classify you as an adult troll.

“Give me your name.” His eyes narrow.   
“Give me yours first.” You can’t help but roll your eyes. You wonder if this is a trap, whether he’s only pretending and you’re about to die anyway.

Karkat’s out of signal range, you can’t call for help until he makes a sweep of the planet in three hours time.

“Tholluckth Captor. Right hand to Karkat Vantas.”  
“Eridan Ampora. Moirail to the heiress, and probably about to be labelled as a turncoat.”

He holsters the gun and the knife, hesitating only a second before he pulls out a slim case. “There’s a chip in there. I gathered all the information I could that’s related to his cause.”

You take it, turning the case over in your hands. You should leave now. He’s stepped out of the way of the door, settling himself into the chair in front of the controls.

You stop just short of the door, glancing back at him.

“Two quethtionth.” An eyebrow raised in answer is all you get from him.   
“How do you know Karkat, and how the fuck did thomeone your age climb through rankth that quickly?”  
Something you think is a smile crosses his lips, and he looks tired. “Kar and I used to talk when we were younger. When I told him I was goin’ into the fleet, he cut off all communications.” He turns his attention back to the control panel, starting to power up the ship once again. “And my job before this earned me such a high position. She knew I could be ruthless and kill easily if I wanted, so she stuck me directly into officer trainin’. She’s never really been one for tactics, if history is right.”

He looks up out of the viewport, fiddling with one of the gold rings on his hand.

“You should go now. Get that chip to Karkat, get my moirail off of Alternia, and then hide in the bottom corners of the galaxy. That’s all I can offer you.” He gestures for you to leave, turning in his seat to watch you step out of the door.

He takes off within seconds of you being clear of the thrusters, and you stumble your way over to the trees again.

This feels like one of the most obscure experiences you’ve had this sweep, and you spend a month on a hallucinogenic planet hiding from the Empress.

As you crouch to power up your husktop again with the intent of waiting for Karkat to come into range, you wonder if you’ll see him again. Despite his blood, he reminded you of the others that make up Karkat’s ranks.

Tired, and as if an idea of a rebellion against Her Imperious Condescension is one of the few things left that will keep them going.

Karkat comes into range a planet-side hour later, and in that time you’ve got a few questions you want answered about one Eridan Ampora.

Namely, how the literal fuck did he get past your scanners to be able to talk to Karkat?


	3. Day 3 - Dream bubbles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream bubbles. Eridan is dead and wondering about the science of bubbles. He meets Sollux, though he's yet to decide whether it's unfortunate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHELP DEFINITELY NOT UPLOADING ON TIME SORRY
> 
> #dream bubbles #hemoshuffle timeline #violet sollux #eridan is dead #mention of eridan being pulled apart, but shouldn't be too graphic??

The bubbles are in, a short word, fascinating.

If you can be bothered to try and think about the science of it all (Which you have been, though not for a while), it’s really intriguing. Especially the way the bubbles blend together.

You don’t often leave your bubble, which is how you’ve been able to waste time in examining how they appear to blend and meld together.

You would even take notes on it, just so you have proof that you’re doing something with your afterlife instead of moping around in halves, but you don’t have anything in your sylladex that’ll let you take notes. Sure, you can probably use the blood that keeps dripping from your waist, because you’re sort of not looking down as much as possible right now.

It’s… you don’t like it. Simple. You’ve seen the Kanaya from your timeline. It was… interesting. At that time, you were still in two halves, playing a ridicules game (well, you didn’t consider it a game) of tug-o-war with your legs and one of the angels that inhabit your death bubble. They think it’s great to grab you and pull you apart again, and it so fucking annoying to pull yourself back together, in any sense.

You hadn’t noticed Kanaya until you had gotten your legs back, and by that time the bubbles were separating.

You’ve taken to avoiding any troll from _your_ timeline. It’s petty, you know. You should go and apologise, but like this? When you can avoid them easily and focus your attention on other things besides your death and how much pain you are in over it all? It’s easier. You’ve found that you like easy. It’s less work for you, and you can pretend that you aren’t the biggest fuck up to have ever fucked up.

You doubt they would accept an apology from you anyway.

You’re lying in two halves now, actually. You had been studying the way a bubble was intercepting with yours when the angels decided you needed to be split up again. You’ve given up trying to scare them off. They leave quicker if you let them pull you apart, even if it hurts more. You can just see the bubble from where you’re lying. Your legs are lying half in it, half in your own. This bubble hasn’t fully intercepted yours, and sometimes they don’t. When that happens you’ve found that more often than not, the other bubbles’ occupant won’t enter yours. Which you’re perfectly fine with. You’re a solitary troll, no biggie for you. (You were destined to be a loner of a troll anyway. Doesn’t make it any easier to accept though).

You shift your gaze from the opaque walls of the bubble to your legs, which are hanging juuuussst out of your reach on a bit of broken stone to your left. It’s part of one of the cathedrals, and you figure you can probably snare your legs with your scarf and get it down.

You’re in the midst of dragging your upper half over there when you hear footsteps.

It surprises you enough to look up, and you just know you don’t have a chance in hell at hiding your surprise.

“What the fuck.”

It’s a Sollux, which you don’t see very often. But more importantly, it’s a _violet_ Sollux. He looks just as surprised to see you as you are him.

“You look absolutely ridicules with fins. What sort of fucked up timeline were you from?” You don’t often talk with the other occupants of a bubble, simply because they don’t help your totally scientific cause of studying bubbles. But you can’t help yourself. This is too weird. You’ve seen heaps of varieties of yourself and Sollux and Kar and Kan and Fef.

But you’ve yet to see this.

“I could thay the thame about you.”  
“Oh my god you still have a lisp. This is ridicules. Does anyone ever take you seriously?” Fuck your legs right now, this is far more interesting. You’ve never seen such a… a shuffle of blood in players like this. You thought they were all set to blood and rank!

“Does anyone take _you_ theriouthly? You’re in half.”  
“Oh, I hadn’t noticed.”  
He reaches up and tugs your legs down off the stone, folding his arms over his chest.

(He has some stupid little caplet thing over his shoulders. It’s far worse than yours and for once, for _once_ , you think you can laugh properly over something)

You grab your legs and do an awkward squirm-wiggle-thing to get your halves realigned and tied with your scarf. It takes a few seconds for your legs to start working again, and you’ve got blood all over your hands now when you finally push yourself to stand. You imagine it away easily.

You take the opportunity of standing to walk around him, studying him as he is you.

“The cape ith ridiculeth.”  
“Says you. A half cape looks stupid as fuck.”  
His fins twitch at the distance sound of an angel singing, and you glance over your shoulder to look for it. “You have thothe too?”  
You glance back at him, brow raised. “Huh?”  
“The you from my timeline hath thethe weird thinging white thingth in hith land. They’re unnerving.”  
“Angels?”  
“I don’t think they’re called that, but he’th be uncommunicative for a while on it all, tho maybe.”

You glance at this Sollux again, noting (finally) his eyes. He’s still alive. (He looks weird with normal eyes. It’s jarring.)

“My ones enjoy pullin’ me apart.”  
He smirks and pulls a mocking bow in the direction of his bubble and you roll your eyes even as you walk off into it.

You can place what his bubble is from, but you flop onto one of the chairs there gracefully.

“What am I in your timeline?” You can’t help but ask, picking at one of your claws as you feign nonchalance.

His lips twitch up slightly, and you have a feeling that you’re not going to be happy. “A giant douchebag?”  
“Blood, asshole.”  
He sits in the opposite chair just as gracefully as you did. It must be a seadweller thing. “A mutant, actually. Only reathon I knew ith becauthe I accidentally dropped you into one of the giant poolth around Karkat’th hive. There wathn’t a way to get out, but you were fine breathing. You had thethe weird deformed gillth. We had to get Feferi to get you out. I think she already knew, though. Neither of you said.”

You stare at him for a second, unsure how you feel. “… Mutant?”  
“Yeah, y’know. Bright red? You got any of those? Probably goeth hemoanonymouth.”  
You just nod, running your hand through your hair in irritation. “What am I in yourth?”  
“Psionic. You’re partly the reason I’m dead.”  
He blinks at that, his expression pulling weirdly.

It’s all weird. It’s all wrong. He looks wrong with fins on his face and gills under the high collar of his caplet.

He’s studying you intently, when you zone back in. You look at him, brow raised slightly.

He pulls something from his ‘dex, glances at it and puts it away. “I’ve thtill got another few hourth of unconthciouthneth. You’re definitely not going anywhere.”  
You roll your eyes slightly at him, but you think you know where he’s coming from. “Swap details for details? Who’s heiress in your line?”  
“Heir. Karkat ith. I don’t think I’ve ever theen a shorter theadweller. He maketh up for it by shouting.”

You snort before you can help yourself, because you can sort of picture it. Not Kar in fins, no way, but him shouting to prove he’s just as good of a seadweller as everyone else.

Sollux grins and settles back in his chair.

You copy him, and cross your arms over your chest. It’s still weird, but it’s easy to talk to him. You wonder if it’s just because he’s the same blood as you. The few times you’ve ever interacted with a violet, it’s been easy to talk to them. You never knew why, never bothered to put thought into it, and you don’t bother now.

You like being alone, but having this violet Sollux reminds you that despite that, you do crave interaction with others.

Maybe you’ll start to seek him out, after this.

He sounds like he has some stories to tell, and maybe you’ll finally find someone who understands what being an Orphaner really means.


	4. Day 4 - Free day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Long distance friendship, hell yeah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo two in one day. Let's hope I can get the others out quicker...
> 
> #long distance friendships #humanstuck #english sollux #australian eridan
> 
> (Please now imagine Eridan spouting elegant words before turning to speak with someone else and saying, with a brilliant eastern-australian beach tone, "Scarnon".)  
> ((Yes that is a word))

CA: so

CA: howws the birthday goin

TA: do you have any iidea what tiime iit ii2

CA: oh come on

CA: sol its after elevven

CA: i made sure i had the timezones right

TA: iit ii2 after eleven

TA: good job eriidan

TA: that doe2nt mean iit ii2nt EARLY

CA: youre such a baby

CA: but yeah happy birthday i guess

TA: thank2

TA: fiinally a year older

TA: biig whoop

CA: wwould it make you feel any better if i told you i sent you a gift

TA: …

TA: you diidnt

CA: its not a vvery good one though

CA: sorry about that

CA: i mean i really could havve done better but I sorta forgot an its a little last minute

TA: thank2

CA: youre wwelcome

TA: what are you doiing onliine anyway

TA: II thought you 2aiid you had 2ome thiing to go to

CA: yeah i do

CA: but i wwanted to see your reaction

CA: or read?

CA: howw do reactions wwork i wwonder

TA: you want a miinute there ED

CA: shut up sol

CA: its been a long day okay

CA: noww can you just go to your door already and collect your fuckin parcel

CA: i evven had it delievvered right to your door arent i fuckin nice

CA: i hope ivve got the right address

TA: alriight fiine fiine

TA: IIm goiing

TA: jeez

TA: what2 2o 2peciial about thii2 giift

TA: you 2aiid iit wa2 la2t miinute

CA: oh it is

CA: it totally is

CA: i hope you like it though

TA: okay chiill iim goiing to go get iit

TA: can you waiit liike fiive 2econd2

CA: i guess

You leave your phone on the kitchen counter, rubbing sleep from your eyes as you head towards the door of your apartment. You normally sleep this late, mainly because you spend most nightly hours reading Eridan’s complaints about how his day went.

He lives on the other side of the fucking world, and you both met through some shitpost thing on tumblr. If you remember correctly, you started the whole thing by claiming that shitposting is pretty much just the Australians, and this dumb fandom hipster useless mashup blog reblogged and commented saying that American’s are just Australia’s Australians.

That was months ago. Since, you’ve developed a sort of friendship. Well, more than a sort. You consider him a pretty good friend by now, even for all the snarking and bitching you do at each other. You know he’s a lonely person, but he prefers talking to you through a screen than he does interacting with people in his own town.

Your lives have sort of slotted together. You know a lot about him, but there are still facts that surprise you when you learn about them. You talk to him more than you talk to your co-workers, but that wasn’t really a thing you did in the first place.

You know that he’ll willingly give up sleep (which he flops between loving and hating) to talk to you if you need to, and more than once you’ve woken up to skype ringing away on your computer screen because he’s half way to a panic attack and needs someone to talk to and calm down with.

You definitely don’t mind. He’s a good person (when he’s not being a shit), and you genuinely enjoy talking with him.

Just, maybe not early in the morning. You’re used to sleeping until twelve, at least.

You grumble as you stumble over your shoes on your way to the door, covering a yawn with one hand as you unlock and open the door with the other.

You freeze with your hand still over your mouth.

His hair looks redder without a computer screen between you, and the tacky red bow that’s stuck to his forehead almost makes you laugh.

His smile is almost shy, or at least as shy as you’ve ever seen him be, and it takes a second or two for you to take in the rest of the details.

Your hand slowly drops, your mouth still open, and Eridan continues to look slightly worried and hopeful. His phone is held tight in one hand, and he’s got the handle of a suitcase in the other.

“Surprise?” He says, almost meekly, and then immediately yelps when you yank him into a hug. He’s a little bit shorter than you, by maybe a centimetre at most.

You don’t even know why you notice that.

He yelps again when you pull back and punch him in the shoulder, but he’s smiling so you think it’s more for show.

“You _asshole_. What the fuck are you doing here?! You… It must’ve… But…” You can’t get your words out at all.  
Eridan looks a little smug. “I have a break from uni at the moment. And I just… I wanted to see you, in person. And I thought, hell it’s his birthday soon why not make it a surprise?” His smile turns worried again, and he bites his lip, fiddling with his phone. “… Is this okay? I came straight from the airport, I landed in Manchester an hour ago. I still need to find a hotel or somethin’, I didn’t properly make reservations yet.” He ducks his head a little, and the bow nearly falls off.

You open the door properly again and grab his suitcase to drag it in. “Get in here asshole.”

Eridan laughs as he follows you in, taking the bow off his forehead and shutting the door behind him. Now that you’re not currently shocked over having your internet friend standing in front of you, you can focus on him a little more. He looks absolutely exhausted. The bags under his eyes look deeper, and he’s listing a little to the side.  
“Sit down. I’ll make you something to drink. How long was your flight?”  
He drops into one of the bar stools with a grateful sigh, dropping his backpack carefully to the floor beside him. “Twenty-six hours, not includin’ stop overs. I had three hours in Singapore, one in Amsterdam and a half hour panic rush in London to get to the flight here. Four planes, Sol. Four. I might take a boat back. Do you think a cargo ship will take me?” He grins up at you, but his hands are shaking a little as he grasps the mug of tea you set in front of him.

He's told you before that he hates flying, and the fact that he flew all the way here, for you on your birthday (there has to be another reason, there just has to be), has you sitting down next to him abruptly.

You reach over and hug him again, pulling him to lean into you a little once he’s placed his mug down. He leans into it with a sigh, and you figure you’re going to have to find another couple of pillows real quickly for the spare room, because why not put it to use?

It’s quiet for a few moments, and there’s absolutely no doubt in your mind that he’s exhausted.

You hear more than see his smile when he speaks, however. “So… I brought vegemite with me.”

You let go of him and groan, dropping your head down onto the counter as you think back to the day that you boasted that you could eat a whole teaspoon of vegemite without flinching.

You had been boasting that day, trying to make yourself seem better.

You’re really, really (most definitely really, you’re totally not smiling as he snickers tiredly beside you), really regretting that day.

You wonder if you can get away with it being a shallow teaspoon.

Probably not.


End file.
